


Rough Seas

by arynna



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arynna/pseuds/arynna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little slice of life aboard the merchant vessel, "Hope's Folly." Hilarity ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rough Seas

To say it was a rough day at sea would be an understatement. Wind and torrential rain buffeted the ‘Hope’s Folly’ and if you hadn’t yet figured out how to walk across the deck in a storm, you were picking barnicles out of your chin. Caoilainn took a little pleasure from seeing Callerovia Sunsong leaning over the starbord side cursing as Kilarah rubbed her back.  
"EY KILARAH, YEH AIN’T TH’ ONE THAT CAIN’T WALK SO’S I SUGGEST YEH GET TA TH’ WHEELHOUSE!" she wasn’t going to let them sit around, even if they were her friends. 

A crisp salute and a gentle smile was what she got in return. At least Kilarah had common sense. She treated Caoilainn like a superior, even if Cai had seen fit to give the girl her own ship to run. While Callerovia not entirely her favorite person, Cai knew that the two of them could manage groups of people—and if Kilarah couldn’t convince you to work than nobody could. 

Zabell took pity on Callerovia, levitating her over to the group and smirking slightly as the redhead clung to the doorframe that marked the entrance to the wheelhouse like a scared cat. 

"I don’ like this…" she gasped, teetering over to a bench and sounding much like her Captain. Cai hid her giggle in the appraisal of her pilot, Vevette. 

"It’s getting nasty—" the ebony haired woman stated as a wave crashed onto the windows in front of them, causing Callerovia to startle. “We’d better find somewhere to moor up for the night." she consulted their charts and the lovely projector that Callerovia had fashioned, showing where they were located by use of electromagnetic ‘pings’ off of landmass that returned images. 

"We’re a bit off shore, but we can make it ta moor up outside of Tanaris if we haul arse."   
"That. Let’s do that. Please." Callerovia all but begged.   
"Chart a course for Steamwheedle Port, Pilot Morningshade!" Caoilainn barked in her ‘official’ voice, knowing it did all sorts of things to Vevette that would be in her favor later. It wasn’t her imagination when the, “Aye, aye Captain!" she got was a bit breathy. Caoilainn licked salt from her lips and grinned wickedly.

Just for kicks, Caoilainn cranked it up a notch, yelling into the magically enhanced speaker system, “All hands currently on deck, get below an’ batten down th’ hatches! We’re mooring up in Steamwheedle Port for the night, maintainin’ a current speed of about 13 knots—So give us a bit over an’ hour an’ I PROMISE we’ll stop movin’ fer those of yeh that ain’t got yer sea legs! If yer not below decks an’ I catch wind of it yer swabbin’ ‘em in this!" 

She was quite certain that Vevette creeping their speed up to 15 knots was not out of concern for the cargo, and she let her tall, black boots do the talking as she walked away. 

Damn, it was good to be Captain.


End file.
